


This Too Shall Pass Away

by Malathyne



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Found Family, Friendship, Gen, Homesickness, This Is Gallifrey.mp3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-04
Updated: 2014-06-04
Packaged: 2018-02-03 09:38:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1739924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malathyne/pseuds/Malathyne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A moment of downtime shared with the Doctor and one of his strays.</p><p>"[Home] can be a place of mind, a moment where you know who you are, the history of it." -- Fallout: New Vegas</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Too Shall Pass Away

**Author's Note:**

> Which regeneration and which companion is left purposefully ambiguous. Decide for yourself. ;)

“I lost my home, too, you know,” he says conversationally and licks the concave of his spork.

They’re relaxing in the kitchen after a particularly taxing adventure and eating Nutella straight out of the jar. He’s perched on the island counter, legs tucked up under him Indian-style. She’s sitting next to him, bare feet dangling off the ground. She pauses in smoothing out a crease in her khaki skirt and glances up at him. He catches her looking and raises his eyebrows.

“I’m sorry.” Her response is familiar and reflexive, soft and honest. Her eyes drop and she moves to scoop out another spoonful of chocolate-hazelnut spread, just for something to do.

“There was a war,” he explains, twirling his spork. “A terrible war, spanning across all of time and space. In the end, my world was lost. So was our enemy’s. So were so many that never should’ve disappeared.”

He falls quiet, and she looks at him again. His eyes are dark and far, far away, as if staring into time itself and seeing all the rips and tears in the fabric that he couldn’t mend. Maybe he is. She reaches over and smooths out a crease in the shoulder of his coat. He glances at her, and what she sees then in his eyes makes her heart clench and ache. She wishes she could reach out and gently stroke away that pain, another wrinkle to soften, but she knows it’s deeper than she can ever hope to heal.

“What…” she murmurs, but stops, sorting out what to say. “What do you miss the most?”

A note of surprise flickers in those eyes and he breaks her gaze, blinking and exhaling. “The sky.” He lifts his chin. “None other like it. Burnt orange. You would have loved the sunsets.”

She slides her hand from his shoulder to his side in a tight hug, her cheek pressing against the side of his shoulder. He doesn’t immediately move to return it, but that’s okay.

“I miss…” She thinks for a moment, searching, sifting through her memories. Waves of emotion crash over her as she imagines: the endless sky, the crisp morning air, the silhouette of the farm in the dawn light. Her father, his head thrown back in heartfelt laughter. Her mother standing on the back porch, arms folded over her chest.

Her father’s gravestone. _And wait; your waiting will not be in vain. Time gilds with gold the iron links of pain. The dark to-day will lead into light to-morrow; there is no endless joy, no endless sorrow._

Her mother, standing in the middle of what used to be their living room but is now a hollow, empty space, without any of the warmth or the acceptance that once thrived there.

“I miss my family,” she whispers. She can’t seem to raise her voice higher than that.

He’s hugging her, too, now, and he gives her a squeeze. She leans her head on his shoulder. In a little while, she’ll be okay enough that she can put on a smile, and then he’ll take her hand and lead her to a new planet, a new adventure -- into their new life. But for now… She’ll stay here, curled up against him, and he’ll remind her, without meaning to, what it feels like to be home.


End file.
